Page 4 of Claimed By the Orc Emperor

Holding my breath, I sink under the water until my head is fully submerged. The action soothes me more, a cool flush making me shiver before I come back up for air.

After I am sufficiently cooled, I take hold of the cloth left for me beside the bathing pool and cleansing bar, lathering it up sufficiently. Then I wash roughly over my green skin until a tinge of red crops under its surface. The sweet smell of the bar burrows into my nose as I continue to cleanse myself.

My hand dips under the water and I cup my shaft, washing it just as roughly as the rest of my body. It is not as if I am using it.

As a youth, I spent ample time between the legs of orcs of all genders. I’d wile away my days learning how to touch and please them. But as I have aged and my responsibilities have grown, I have found that I have less and less to express my carnal desires. Though I do miss it.

I soak for a little while longer, wanting to avoid my duties for as long as I can. They never cease.

But they cannot be avoided forever.

I climb out of my bathing pool and dry myself off. It is now well after noon and the day is sweltering. I forgo a tunic and slide on a pair of loose pants and a pair of well-worn sandals. Ordinarily, I would dress for my station, but I do not have any official duties, as I and my advisors will be walking the grounds while we discuss matters of my kingdom. If I am to roam, I would like to be comfortable as I do.

When I am dressed, I look into the polished reflecting glass and gather my hair into a ponytail, the tresses longer on the top and cut close to my scalp everywhere else. I tie it back with a leather thong, hoping to keep it out of my face as we walk through the kingdom.

I would like nothing more than to take a day off. Ever since I ascended to my throne fifteen years ago, I have not had more than a few hours to unwind. I have to always be present for any problems that need solving. It is wearing on me, but it is more important that my subjects are happy and I rule fairly. Maybe one day, I shall have a break from my duties, but today is not that day.

Sighing, I take one last look at myself in the mirror, noting the bags and the dull glint to my eyes. Then, I shake myself and head out of my chambers, ready to face the day.

My advisors are waiting for me in my throne room, discussing my schedule. My lead advisor, Larek, eyes my bare chest with a grin. “Less formal today, I see?”

I return his grin with one of my own, pointing to his similar attire. “It appears we had the same thought. It is scorching outdoors, is it not?”

Like me, Larek only has on a pair of loose-fitting breeches and sandals. The only difference in our attires is his pants are tan, where mine are white, and he is wearing a holster with a blade attached.

My other advisor, Olog, has on a fine-mesh shirt with slighter tighter breeches than Larek and I are wearing. He is also wearing white, so better to repel the hot rays of the sun.

“Nothing we cannot handle,” Larek says. “Though if we encounter a stream on our journey, we can take a quick dip and must only shuck our bottoms. Olog will be held up on the shore, fiddling with his tunic.” We all laugh at Olog’s expense, though he does not seem to care about the friendly jab.

My city that houses my kingdom, Daz Vrokrad, nestled in the center of my country, Belzod, has plentiful streams. Oftentimes, you will find orcs swimming or simply having a midday repast near them. It is not uncommon to strip down to our undergarments on a hot day to cool down outdoors.

Waving my hand with a flourish, I say, “Lead the way, Larek.”

He barks a quick laugh and I, he and Olog leave my palace for the hot outdoors.

Our group steps out of the palace, the midday sun beaming down on us. The green tinge of our skin will darken the longer we are outside, but that does not bother me. Most of us orcs spend a fair amount of time outdoors and are used to the sun’s rays. The sweat dotting my brow and trickling down my back will help cool me for a time.

Larek puts his hands behind his back, walking on my left side. “Your Highness, there has been word from your brother that some orcs from his group have broken off on their own. There was a dispute about who would lead their pack. They are displeased with him, it seems. There have been a few minor skirmishes, but he has not indicated there is a big problem as of yet. Their leader is an orc by the name of Koth. How would you like to handle this?”

I do not answer right away, choosing my words wisely before I speak. My father had a terrible habit of speaking out of turn, then regretting his words later. One such instance brought about his death.

He met his end because he wanted to mount an attack on a group of ogres that were camping in our countryside. They were not causing harm or trouble, as they were simply passing through, but my father wanted them eradicated from his land for no other reason than he said they should be. His men thought it was a call to action instead of a heated explosion of words, and gathered his forces. Instead of my father dispelling their incorrect assumptions, he went along with it, believing more and more that his cause was the correct path. I tried to talk sense into him, as the ogres never intruded on our land and were deferential to orcs. But he would hear none of it. And he paid with his life.

While ogres are a milder race than orcs, they are by no means pushovers. Like orcs, they are always ready for war, as they are threatened more often than they should be. When my sire arrived in the ogre camp, they were ready for our forces, putting up a formidable fight. One of the ogres struck my father in the chest with an ax, almost cleaving him in two. After seeing the emperor laid low, the other orcs in our forces threw down their arms and fled with my father on their shields.

I refused to retaliate against the ogres after my father’s death, as they did not want to fight and did not initiate. I learned a valuable lesson after my sire’s death: never speak out of turn and never let my ego get the best of me, so as not to jeopardize my kingdom.

After a few beats of silence, I ask, “How many?”

Olog pipes up, “From our reports thus far, more than ten but less than twenty.”

I nod, looking out across the land as we walk. Twenty rogue orcs are not a large number, but any rogue orcs are too many. “Send a letter to my brother. Tell him to keep me in the loop and let me know if this rogue band gets out of order and I will send my guards to dispose of them. I want to know everything about this group before an uprising begins. We need to be prepared in case there is an attack.”

“Good plan,” Olog says, with Larek agreeing.

We pass by the market, orcs, a few humans and fairies bartering for their goods. A few orc women bow to me and murmur, “Your Highness,” then giggle behind their hands as they shuffle off.

It is not often I leave the walls of my palace, as there is much that needs doing and I do not have time to simply walk around for leisure, but when I do, there are always women vying for my attention, wishing for me to wed them.

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